Recovering Magic
by Seillean
Summary: Set at the end of Series 3, Morgause is grievously injured but did Gaius actually kill her?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters and intend no copyright infringement. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and I make no profit from it**

**Prologue**

Fog. Everything seemed so foggy and distant. The sounds around her were blurred and indistinct. Very gradually she came to and after a struggle finally opened her eyes though she still couldn't quite focus on the space around her. She knew it was dark and she was aware of another presence nearby. A small murmur from her lips brought that person swiftly to her side. This person...no...this _woman _slid a hand beneath Morgause's head, the blonde sorceress raising herself up at the touch. The other woman laid her free hand on her chest eased her back on to the..._bed?_ The woman's voice when it came was soothing to her even if the sound itself was still ringing slightly in her ears;

"Ssh, Morgause, you must rest".

She didn't know why she trusted this voice but over the years she had learned to follow her instincts. Her instincts in this instance told her that this person meant her no harm. If only she could remember what had happened to her. Why was she here and why did this woman appear so attentive in her care? All she knew was that she was so very tired and rest was probably the best thing for her. She allowed herself to doze off, mindful not to let herself sleep too deeply. After all, she had..._occasionally_...been wrong about people before.

**Chapter One**

It was morning before Morgause awoke again with the fresh sunlight streaming through the window, the rays bouncing off wall and ceiling making shadows dance as a cool breeze caressed the curtains. She felt more certain this time, her senses sharper and her head clear of the mists that had plagued her before. As she sat up in the bed she took in her surroundings and found she was berthed in a large stone bedchamber, a fire had been burning through the night if the smoking embers in the hearth had been anything to go by. Draped around the room were various rich, vibrant tapestries depicting kings and queens of old done in silk threads of Scarlet, Sapphire and Emerald. It was Morgause's own bedroom. Now the question remained who had brought her here? She remembered the kind voice from the night before and the memory of it sent a shiver down her spine. Indeed, how had that young woman known to bring her here? The sorceress' castle had been secret but to very few, surely she had not told this person the secret of its whereabouts when she could not even remember knowing her. It was as she was contemplating this that said young woman decided to appear.

When the door had opened it revealed a tall, slender figure with long, black tresses and alabaster skin. She was clothed as fine as any Queen or Princess herself, dressed in a long green gown, tied at the waist by a long, golden bejewelled belt. As Morgause looked closer she realised that the woman was a girl of no more than one or two and twenty. She was vaguely familiar though the blonde-haired priestess couldn't quite place her. The girl smiled when she saw that Morgause was sitting up, a brilliant beaming smile that just made the receiver wonder all the more who her mysterious carer was. The dark haired princess (for that is what Morgause had chosen to call her) eased herself down to sit next to her, offering a cup of water. It was only then that the sorceress realised how thirsty she actually was and a sudden a wave of dizziness washed over her, leaving her to fall back against the pillows. There the girl was, lifting the cup to Morgause's parched lips. She drank steadily, forcing herself not to gulp it down even as the gentle command was given her'

"steady...drink slowly".

The hand was once again giving support to the witch's head, fingers absently stroking through blonde tresses. Apparently it had not gone unnoticed...

"who are you?"

Her voice was weak and raspy but the words stung Morgana to the core. The look of devastation must have crossed her face before she could hide it as Morgause immediately looked regretful.

_Of course_...Morgause thought to herself..._this poor girl must believe I should remember her, after all, why else would she be doing all of this? Now look what you've done, you fool! _Not that she knew why she should be so concerned or why she should know the girl at all. Still, she could not deny that the more she stared into 'Princess'' delicate features the more familiar she seemed. _Perhaps...no, impossible... _but it was..._and_ _she looks so uncertain._

"Please tell me who you are, I should like to know who to thank for such attentive care" she tried, perhaps a bit too hard but the effort was rewarded with a shy up-turn of her carer's lip. It was slight but it was there. There was slight hesitation before the answer came making Morgause even more nervous than she had been already;

"I...I'm Morgana...you're sister"

Morgause let go of the breath she had been holding but more came.

"You, you do not remember me do you?"

The look of horror on Morgana's face had turned to hurt and Morgause felt her head beginning to spin again. When Morgana spoke again her voice cracked;

"Morgause, what's the last thing you remember?"

"I am not sure, I am not sure I remember anything at all".

The realisation seemed only caused Morgause more distress and for Morgana the realisation that her protective, older sister was afraid. She wanted to reach out and wrap her up in her arms just as Morgause had done so many times for her but she didn't move, not wishing to be too intrusive on the older witch's space.

"You had a blow to the head, you have been unconscious for three days now. I was beginning to think...oh, sister, I thought I had lost you"

Despite the hand that had some up to try and hide her face, the tears that began trickling down Morgana's face were too much for Morgause to bear. Regardless of whether or not she could remember her she could not ignore the tug on her heart that this Morgana undeniably had. Almost as though her body knew something that she did not, she leaned forward and mindful of the tight throbbing in her shoulders tentatively slid her arms around Morgana's shaking form.

She knew it wasn't real, that Morgause was only working on instinct but it felt good to be surrounded by her warmth again. She leaned into the embrace but something was wrong, Morgause had tensed. Bolting upright, blue/green eyes bore in golden brown with concern;

"Morgause, what's wrong?"

The blonde witch was uncertain how to respond. Her body itself had responded in a way she had not expected at all and she could not, dare not, try to explain it.

"I'm...I'm sorry, it is...my back"

She forced a weak smile but Morgana still did not look convinced but forced a smile of her own and cupped her sister's cheek.

"At the same time you took the blow to your head your back was also hurt. I should let you rest although you should eat something as well, I will have something brought to you"

Morgause herself could only nod as Morgana made to leave;

"Thank you, you are very kind" but she couldn't let Morgana leave like this and she still needed to find out more information, "will you come sit by me later and tell me more about yourself, perhaps how we met?".

A small nod came from the doorway, "of course I shall, provided you are not too tired". The door closed but Morgana only managed a few steps along the corridor before allowing the wall to catch her, letting it support her as sobs racked through her slight frame though mindful to stay quiet for her sister's sake.


	2. Chapter 2

Morgana did return to her sister's chamber that night. She told Morgause the story of how they had met, how Morgause had come for her after a plot for Camelot's downfall had gone wrong and brought her back here, this place that she now called home. She explained how grateful she had been when Morgause had nursed her back to health after her poisoning and recounted events of their year together where she had been taught how to hone her magical talents as well as improve her skills with the blade. She spoke of the closeness that had developed between them although she did not enlighten the other woman as to just _how _close they had been. The last thing Morgana wanted was a rejection of all they had shared and she was not entirely sure how this 'new' Morgause would react to that particular piece of news. Lastly, she divulged as to how they had gotten here, their plan to rule Camelot in ruins and Morgause, herself, grievously injured. To her credit, the blonde witch listened carefully to every word and did her utmost to take it all in though her head was reeling by the end of the conversation.

"It seems that I am the one who now owes you my gratitude, sister. You have brought me home and you have cared for me".

"I know it is a lot to take in but I am determined to find a way of bringing your memories back to you"

At this, Morgause could not help a wry smile. She very much recognised this willpower in her sister as her own. _Just as in our own mother_, she thought to herself.

"Well then, I have not a doubt in my mind that you shall succeed. You are aware that this determined streak came directly from your mother?"

It was Morgana's turn to smile, it was rare that Morgause mentioned their mother though Morgana never knew why. Perhaps it was too painful.

"So it is her doing that I am always in trouble for being headstrong? Well, if nothing else, now I know who to blame for it all!"

Smiles turned into grins before Morgana looked up and realised that the hour was late, they should already both have been asleep. If she was to even attempt to return her sister's memories to her then she would have to put in a full day's research and preferably be awake to do it! Still, she could not deny a particular liking for 'this' Morgause, a Morgause that somehow seemed freer and more at peace than the woman she had come to know though she was unsure she would ever know her completely. The blonde had so many depths..._as unfathomable and as changeable as the sea_ Morgana thought with a smirk. With that thought she bid goodnight to her companion and slipped through to her own chambers.

Morgause had had this room arranged especially for Morgana when she had first arrived here just two years ago although it seemed as though a lifetime had passed since then. She still felt a little tingle run along her spine whenever she entered this place. Everything in here had been done for beauty and beauty's sake alone. Morgana had trained hard under Morgause's tutelage, whether learning spells and herbs or head-to-foot in armour learning more advanced sword-craft than she had ever learned at Camelot. No, Morgana's bedchamber was her space to be herself where not even Morgause could enter unannounced. That was exactly as Morgause had wanted it. Morgana had to learn to be her own woman for one day she would rule as Queen of Camelot and a Queen had to learn to live apart from her subjects. Even those closest to her. She was well aware that her sister worshipped the very ground she walked on which was why the fabrics that covered her bed and curtained her windows, the delicate jewellery left on the dresser, the paintings that adorned the walls and even the dresses that hung within her wardrobe all cried out opulence. Morgana's every whim had been catered for, even a private sitting-room for her to indulge in any interest that may take her fancy with a monumental fireplace to keep her warm on the coldest of Winter nights. It was yet more luxurious that Morgause's own bedroom which was in itself rich in its décor.

Still, as thrilled as she was with the goods that the priestess had lavished on her, Morgana's greatest thrill was to climb into bed after one last look in the glass, her eyes red and bleary, her skin paler than usual and lined with dark circles. She was exhausted and it did not take long for sleep to come over her once settled under the warm furs. The last words that crossed her lips that night came on the very edge of sleepy oblivion. _I will bring you back to me, my love..._

**To be continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters and intend no copyright infringement. This is for entertainment purposes only, I make no profit from this story.**

**Plot warning: This story will gradually become more a little more slash as it develops which means slight hints of incest and while, apparently not an issue for the ancient Pagans this is understandably an offensive subject for many people today. If you do possess such sensitivities then I advise you to look away now though I thank you for reading thus far!**

**One last note, thank you to everyone who has been reading so far and especially to those of you who have sent your reviews my way. Although I write a lot in my spare time this is my first time writing FanFic so your kind comments are very much appreciated. I hope I can do you justice with this next instalment.**

**Chapter Three**

After a few days Morgause had recovered enough to get out of bed and had even started doing simple spells again. Morgana was swiftly reminded that although in a weakened state, Morgause was still the most powerful sorceress the dark-haired witch had ever seen. Taught from an infant by the priestesses of the old religion on the ancient Isle of Avalon, magic had become as natural to her as breathing and Morgause's spell-casting was simply breathtaking to witness. In the meantime Morgana had been down in the blonde's huge Library. Morgana had never seen such a wide-ranging inventory, not even in the archives of Camelot. The room itself was covered in cobwebs but extremely well-fitted. One large, very comfortable-looking chair sat by a relatively simple hearth. She could imagine her sister having spent many a happy hour down here in what felt like the depths of the Earth, far out of reach of the trouble and noise of the world. She picked out a few dusty age-old tomes and carted them across the giant chair. She lit a fire in the hearth, cheating slightly by using her magic instead of going to fetch the kindling herself, well, _who was to know? _Snuggling herself down into the warm, soft brown leather the whole piece of furniture seemed to mould itself around her, the security of it comforting.

Rummaging through the various texts for some way of restoring the other witch's memories so far there seemed only one avenue she open to her. A total transference. Apparently it was possible for one person to completely imbue their memories into another. Problem was, Morgause would need to recover fully before the spell could take place and truth-be-told, Morgana didn't know if she was strong enough to perform it herself. No-telling what would happen to the both of them if she couldn't endure the spell for long enough or focus properly. There were risks to both women but she dared not mention her fears to Morgause, knowing very well that her sister would not risk Morgana's well-being for her own sake.

By the time she had left the Library she had no idea where said sister had gone. She headed for her own bedchamber where she left the book she needed sitting on the dresser that sat underneath the window. As she looked through the glass she saw the familiar figure of blonde-haired witch standing by the lake that marked the border of Morgause's land. She slid a cloak of velvet dyed burnt umber about her shoulders and meandered her way along the halls and down the stairs until she reached the fresh cool air. She could smell dampness, it must have rained while she had been locked away in the bowels of the sorceress' secluded fortress. The grass underfoot was a brilliant green but the leaves on the trees had begun to turn beautiful golds and coppers with the changing seasons. Morgana had always loved this time of the year. Memories of walking with her father as a young girl in the grounds of her childhood home of Tintagel came back to her. With his position as War Duke to King Uther the Pendragon her father Gorlois had rarely been home to spend much quality time with but she had loved him dearly. One particular year when Morgana was still learning to ride, they rode to the woods together. When they got there they left the horses to rest and went for a walk under the shelter of the trees, crisp leaves crunching under their feet while Gorlois pointed out the various plants and birds to his daughter with a certain pride. It was rare that she allowed herself to think back to those days. It was hard to miss him. He had always been kind to her but she did realise that Morgause had rather different feelings toward him and now even her own memories seemed false. He was, as she now knew, not her father after all. Not that he was to blame. He had been fooled by the lies of Uther just as she had herself. She shook away the thought, she would not allow the memories of the father she had known to be tainted by those of one she hated so.

As she drew nearer to her older sibling she noticed that Morgause was soaked through, her hair bedraggled and her dress completely sodden. Just how long had she been standing there? As Morgana neared closer she could see the other woman shivering; _she must be freezing, _she thought to herself but Morgause seemed not to care. She edged closer and closer until she was standing no more than a single pace behind her, still Morgause said nothing. Saying nothing in return the younger witch simply placed her cloak about the other woman. They stood there together for time unknown. Moments...minutes...possibly even hours but time was meaningless. Eventually a voice came quietly over the sound of the water bubbling happily in-front of them;

"I wish I could remember us...our time together"

Morgana did not know what she had been expecting but it certainly hadn't been this.

"Morgause?"

"Over the last few days, some of my memories of my life before have begun to return to me...perhaps not memories as such but...feelings. I remember being so determined to become the absolute best priestess, the best fighter because...I did not have anything else in my life. But I was never happy, not truly. I had always planned to come and find you but there was always one more lesson to master, one more skill to learn." An Ironic smile crossed her lips before she continued; "I knew if you were anything like the other women in the family that you would have magic...and I wanted to protect you. I wanted my family. When our mother died I missed her terribly and I could not really think much of our father. After I was _smuggled _away into the care of the priestesses I hardly ever saw him again and then was killed. I was determined to have you back in my life at all costs Morgana. When you told me about the time we shared together, the year here and...secret meetings. It sounded so perfect. I believe I was happy...and now it is gone from me."

Unsure of what to say Morgana gave the only answer that felt right. With a lump in her throat she slid her arms around Morgause's waist and told her sister the thing she needed to hear "you made me happy Morgause. That year that we spent together you trained me so hard, I was permanently exhausted, usually covered in the remnants of various potions and body aching to head to foot but I would not change a moment. I loved learning from you and I loved having a sister. My true family. The one I was denied knowing for too long. You gave me that Morgause and do not ever forget that. I will find a way to reinstate your memories sister, that is my promise to you."

Leading Morgause back inside and up to the fireplace in the Great Hall that was exactly what Morgana promised to herself. This new Morgause was quiet and vulnerable and while she still loved her dearly, she needed her sister's strength back. She was still learning her craft and while the blonde remained in her weakened state physically, so did her magic and that left them both open to attack. Together they were stronger...they had almost been unstoppable and they would be again. Yes, Morgana would have her back, no-matter the cost.

**To be continued...(if you want, that is!)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Still with me eh? I'm impressed (and suitably grateful, of course!). Haven't got a clue where I'm going with this by-the-way, just kinda going with whatever pops into my head so if there are any special requests with what you'd like to see happen by all means fling 'em my way!**

**Once again, thank you so much for the reviews, it really does help!**

**Chapter Four**

A small knock on the heavy wooden door brought Morgana back to the land of the living. She'd had far too late a night pouring over page after dusty page of crumbling parchment with only a candle's illumination. She'd read until her eyes stung with the unceasing intensity and her head pounded from trying to absorb so much information. To make matters worse, despite hour upon hour of research she was still no further forward. Her only option _was_ to perform the transference. She knew her sister would be less than impressed at the prospect, possibly even furious that Morgana was considering the idea at all but just this once she would refuse to take no for an answer. The haze of sleep cleared, remembering there was still someone at the door. Knowing full-well who that _someone _was she hoisted herself upright calling "come in Morgause" at the same time. She must have looked a state given the half-disgusted expression on the blonde witch's face when she entered.

Indeed, Morgause took in her surroundings and was not exactly thrilled with what she saw.

"Morgana? What...in the name...of the Great Mother..." Morgana's cloak was draped over the chair at her dresser half on the floor, the gown she had taken off the night before cast off onto the chest at the end of the bed, there were books scattered all around the room, all open at different pages and candle wax had been spilled onto the just about every surface.

Morgana, herself, could not have looked more sheepish and contrite if she had purposely stared into the glass to practice.

"I...well...I was doing some research and...well I stayed up a little longer than I had intended"

Morgause knew that she really had no business giving Morgana a telling off, she was, after all, a grown woman and she was only trying to do something constructive but Morgana didn't. it. Yes, a little light teasing was in order! Using her most condescending tone she did just that;

"Sister. While the pursuit of knowledge is admirable you cannot we cannot afford any breakdown in discipline can we?"

"No Morgause"

"No...and you were aware that we were due for some light sparring first thing this morning?" by this point Morgause could not help the slight twisting of her lips as she fought off a grin.

Morgana, however, could not help but squirm under her sister's intense scrutiny.

"Oh Morgause, I am so sorry. I did forget, please forgive me!"

Morgause's fun had come to an end, taking pity on the poor girl she eased herself down onto the bed where a gentle look replaced the harsh disciplinarian.

"Morgana, I was only teasing, I am sorry." she had noted the dark circles under the other woman's eyes as well as her weary countenance. "but you _are _overworking my Lady. Perhaps we should simply enjoy the day, sparring can wait.

The younger witch concealed her relief admirably. The thought of a whole day just for them was a welcome one. However, she still had one obstacle to overcome. She would have to tell Morgause of her plans before much longer. Perhaps a relaxing lunch by the lake with nothing but the sound of the birds above, the rustling of the trees and the water winding its path would be the best way to begin what was sure to be a difficult conversation. She knew her half-sister would block her at every turn. She would have to go prepared. She would also have to make sure the formidable sorceress was in a compromising mood. Over the years she had become quite adept at getting her own way but she had never yet tried it with this one.

"Yes, that sounds perfect Morgause...how about lunch? By the lake?"

"A fine choice. I will have the cook pre-..."

"No! I mean...I shall organise everything"

"Morgana, you do not have to..."

"I know...but I want to. For you"

Morgause eyed her for a second but she seemed satisfied with whatever conclusion she had reached within her own mind. It may have been that she was simply indulging the young woman or it may have been that she suspected Morgana was up to some ploy or other. Either way she would find out soon enough.

The two women shared a perfect afternoon. Even the sun had appeared to grace his warmth to what had turned out to be more of a fine banquet than a picnic. There was comfortable talk, many reminiscences on the part of Morgana about their previous times together. Many made Morgause laugh but equally made her wish she still possessed them in her own mind. Owing to the spirit of the conversation she contributed one or two stories about their mother. Tales that the young witch had heard so many times before yet somehow never tired of hearing. She had come to realise some time ago that this was the closest she was ever going to be to her mother until she reached the afterlife herself. Getting to know her through the experiences of the one who was, right now, threatening to pull her into the lake with her. She succeeded.

It was while drying off under the watery sun that Morgana decided to broach the subject she dreaded bringing up.

Morgause had far from forgotten her suspicions of the morning and when the younger witch had suddenly gone quiet she knew that she was about to receive the results of whatever little plan Morgana had formed. When the girl who had been so talkative all day started to shift uncomfortably, beginning with several 'ummms' and 'erms' the blonde didn't know whether to be frustrated or amused.

"Speak your mind Morgana, whatever is troubling you."

"Well, I have discovered a way to reinstate your memory" She began though uncertain how to continue.

"I see. I suppose I am here to be persuaded as to the merits of this plan?" The older woman's tone was deceptively light but behind it was a wealth of knowing.

Morgana should never have been shocked at the sorceress' perceptiveness but some arrogant streak in her had believed she could somehow sidle past it. Once again she was reminded of the blonde's astuteness and her uncanny ability to get straight to the heart of the matter. No, she was stupid to think she could ever fool her with such a blatant pretence as this.

"It is a delicate formula. There are many risks and I am uncertain I could perform it myself. I do not believe I have the necessary skill."

"Then it is already doomed to fail"

"No, it is possible but the spell is complex"

"It is doomed to fail because _you _do not believe you can"

"I am unsure I have the strength"

"You wish to perform a transference, correct?"

_Had Morgause seen the book laying on the dresser?_ _Surely not! She was not in the room long enough, was she?_

The blonde simply sat there and watch the frantic thinking of her sister, every thought evident through her delicate features. Once again she was both amused but mildly annoyed as well. Annoyed that her sister believed she could fool her so easily and angry that she was considering this ridiculous procedure at all. In a voice that as cold as ice and just as bitter she left the other woman under no illusions as to her stance on the matter;

"Let me make this abundantly clear Morgana. I know exactly what you were thinking because it is the only method of regaining memories once lost but I absolutely forbid you to even attempt this absurd incantation. It is too dangerous!"

This show of superiority was enough. Morgana had determined that she would not cave in and she didn't. When she did respond her tone was dangerous. It was a tone that Morgause had never been on the receiving end of as she stared into the blonde witch's eyes;

"Very well Morgause, now let _me_ make something _abundantly_ clear. I _will _be performing this _absurd_ incantation because _absurdly _I want my sister back! I want you to have your 'happiness' back and you will. I made a promise to you and I made a promise to myself. I cannot talk of all reasons why now but you will understand and we _will _do this together! Are you listening?"

The razor sharp voice Morgana had taken on and the harsh words had rocked Morgause to her very being. Perhaps her younger counterpart truly was becoming stronger.

"When?"

Easing back a little Morgana said something unexpected. Without thinking she committed herself the both to fate.

"Tomorrow."

Morgause was sitting up in bed reading when the light tap came at her door. She answered the request with a formal "come" but the conspiratorial smile on her face when Morgana entered was decidedly less formal.

"Yes Morgana?" Her tone was teasing but though the corner of younger girl's lip twitched the smile did not reach her eyes, instead they looked troubled. "You are nervous about tomorrow", less a question than a statement of fact. At the other woman's nod she patted the bed beside her and Morgana gratefully sat down. She raised a hand to sooth its way up and down Morgana's back as she spoke what she hoped were would be words of comfort; "my dear, I have absolute confidence in you. Morgana, you are more powerful than you believe"

Morgana opened her mouth to protest; "...but Morgause, everything that happened...when it all fell apart I was not strong enough to continue to fight..." but Morgause moved her hand from Morgana's back to cover her lips with a single finger.

"I am sure that when I regain my memories I shall say something quite different...but for now I shall say that it was a set-back, nothing more. You and I are both still here are we not? Then we shall try again and this time...we _shall_ succeed!"

Morgause lifted the bed sheets to reveal her lither form covered in a thin, plain-dyed night gown. Morgana immediately slid in beside her, burying herself into Morgause's warmth and tucking herself firmly under-chin, smiling to herself at the thought that struck her...she could not resist.

"Does not your back hurt too much for this, my dearest sister?". The question was asked innocently enough but the slight hint of sarcasm in Morgana's tone was enough to make the heat rise in Morgause's cheeks. After several attempts at stumbling over her words she eventually settled for a simple reply;

"No my back is fine now"

Morgana's subtle smile from before turned into an outright smirk at catching the older woman off-guard; it did not occur often but on the odd occasion when it did the younger girl took an immense pleasure from it. Still, she could not deny that the comfort from being in this woman's arms once again was wonderful. There was a time when she had been in danger of taking it for granted but no longer. Morgause herself was slender but finely muscled which gave her an aura of solidity and stability but it was not merely about physical presence. It was the knowledge that this woman would protect her from anything that came upon them that gave her the reassurance. Well, perhaps that was not strictly true for the moment but she could still choose to believe it. Morgause had almost been killed trying to protect Morgana's "queenly appointment"; she loved her in life and (evidently) in death too. This knowledge was something she would cling to for the rest of her life. A grin worked its way across Morgana's narrow features..._silly woman!_

**To be continued...(unless you tell me otherwise, let me know!)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Once again, thank you to those who have sent reviews- your time and comments are very much appreciated. This is actually the chapter I've been dreading writing as I have never been very comfortable writing "live-action" scenes, i.e. frantic/lots of things going on so any critique is more than welcome. Right, ready for the next instalment? Nope, me neither but here goes...!**

**Chapter Five**

It was early in the morning, so early, in-fact, that the sun had only just begun peeking through the trees and Morgana was still tightly wrapped up in Morgause's arms. _Exactly where I should be _she thought to herself. It should have been perfect but something still wasn't right. Today was the day that she could either regain everything that had been taken from her...or she could lose everything she had left. The idea made her shiver though she felt the older woman's arms draw her tighter still. They had both had such a restless sleep. Morgana because she was feeling so nervous about the day ahead, visions of things that could go wrong, of losing everything she cared for plagued her in the silent darkness. Morgause's dreams had been filled with disjointed images that she could make no sense of. A flash of steel, fires blazing, a ceiling crumbling, walls imploding towards her. She'd woken several times during the unceasing night covered in a sheen of cold sweat, unnerved further still by the blackness of her surroundings. The nightgown she had been wearing was soon discarded after being soaked through.

Morgana raised her head enough to glance at her, the blonde was finally sleeping peacefully. She looked exhausted but Morgana decided she still looked as beautiful as ever. It wouldn't do any harm to let her sleep a little longer. She supposed she should have been getting up to prepare her supplies for the afternoon's incantation but right now she wasn't in a hurry to go anywhere...

She didn't know exactly how much longer they had slept when she was re-awoken by a gentle stroking on her shoulder. A few sighs and mumbles later she eventually opened her eyes to find the blonde priestess staring down at her, a soft smile gracing her finely sculpted features. Morgana remembered Morgause telling her sometime previous that she had loved waking that few minutes before her younger counterpart just to watch her sleep though she would surely not think it now or admit it if she did.

"Mm, I woke up earlier but you were asleep and I was comfortable"

The other woman had to suppress a grin, there was a full day ahead and she, ever the taskmaster;

"To work?"

"To work".

The workroom floor had been cleared. All of the tables had been shifted against the walls. Only two small wooden chairs had been left in the very centre of the room. Morgause stood next to one, dressed in the simple black trousers, tall boots and thin plain shirt she had been wearing when Morgana had first walked into her guest chamber at Camelot. If she was going to perform such intense magic she was going to be comfortably clothed. Morgana, on the other hand had chosen a simple slip. She wanted to feel every inch the sorceress. It was like dressing up and playing a part. In any case, it was Morgause's role to be the practical one!

The dark-haired witch turned from her preparations to face Morgause and took the few steps to where the chairs were. Where Morgause was waiting for her.

"Are you ready sister?"

"Yes."

"Very well then".

The tension in the room was palpable as they took their places, bringing their chairs close so that the hands that rested on their knees were touching. Holding onto each other, they slowly raised the energy between them, building the connection that would link them mind and soul together.

Once the spell had begun to work their minds had somehow been enjoined above them. They knew each other's every thought, every feeling. Images flashed through both of their minds. For Morgana she saw a tall, slender woman, beautiful in her own right, with long-flowing hair so golden it would have made the sun jealous. She was twirling a young girl around and around in the air, then the hurt of that same girl as she watched her mother leaving after one of her secret visits to her daughter. Next she felt the all-consuming grief of that girl when her mother died. She saw her older, a blade of steel in her hand, she watched the young woman train...so elegant with a sword that if Morgana hadn't known better she would have believed her sister might have been trained by the legendary Queen *Sgathaich herself!

Morgause in her turn saw a young lady, no more that three and ten, clinging to her father's grave, she jumped forward to a vision of a knight appearing in Camelot and being awestruck at the figure's proficiency at human slaughter then shocked when the knight's helmet was removed to reveal an incredibly striking woman. Then something strange, she felt skin touching skin, hands with fingers then limbs intertwined, then both feelings of fear and ecstatic joy echo simultaneously. All of this in an instant. The spell was becoming stronger...too strong...below, the women's bodies were leaning heavily on each other, breaths coming in gasps.

"Morgause...I cannot hold this much longer!"

"Yes you can, just a few moments more...I believe in you Morgana...you can do this."

But then a blinding burst. Rays of white light shot out in every direction from a the energy centre between them. The energy exploded outwards, the blast sent both woman flying back into opposite corners of the room, the shock hit home the memory of being slammed into another wall in another time like a hammer to the gut. The windows came crashing into the room while the windowed cabinets shattered out, the glass bottles and vials on the worktables smashed and sent splintering shards zipping across the chamber with lethal intent.

Then there was silence.

When the blackness cleared and Morgause had regained her senses she could hear whimpering coming from the far corner. Her body let out a protest of its own when she tried to stand but she had to reach that sound. Ignoring the glass that scraped under her legs and palms she crawled steadily across the floor, stopping every few seconds to catch her breath. It was only a few metres but it may as well have been a mile and her skin felt as though it was ablaze. When she did reach Morgana she found her sister sweating profusely and crying out random words, sounds. She pulled the limp body to her, as if she could pour the life back into it herself;

"Morgana...Morgana!"

After horror-filled moments the young witch seemed to come around a little. Morgause took the opportunity to try moving the girl.

Arms around shoulders and waists they dragged each other up the stone spiral staircases, Morgause's sheer physicality pulling the younger Morgana towards her bed chamber. She heaved Morgana onto the bed with an almighty thud, too drained to be graceful about it. Morgana, herself, felt like she had a thousand bats frantically thrashing around inside her head and her skin was still crawling from the shock of energy that had jolted them both.

"Morgause? Please... "

The cry was pitiful just as the weak grabbing of the blonde woman's wrist. Disregarding all of the tiny hurts throughout her own aching form she eased her sister into a more comfortable position, propping her up on the pillows behind her. She felt the dark-haired witch's glistening forehead. It was hot. No...scorching. She had broken out into some kind of fever and was now mumbling incoherently. Finding a cloth and bowl of water Morgause began dabbing it over Morgana's face and neck. Sighing to herself, she realised she was going to be here for some time and sat herself down on the other side of the bed and slid her arm under the other woman's shoulders.

After a few hours a discrete knock came from the other side of the bedroom door. Puzzled, she admitted entrance and a young maid came in bearing a tray. Morgause looked at her with what could almost be termed affection. The maiden, who could only have been seven and ten at the most suggested that _'her Ladyship'_ might possibly rest and take something to eat. They were a simple people, the servants. They had come to the powerful sorceress on the hope of freedom and protection from the persecution of Camelot and its tyrannical ruler. They had been land-workers, that was all, no magic to speak of but they were followers of the Great Mother. They danced around the Beltane fires, offered sacrifice to the land at Imbolc and communed with their ancestors at Samhain. When they came to her Morgause had promised them a better life...just as she had the stricken young girl who lay helpless at her side now.

She did take her rest. It was only when lying back on her own bed that she let herself focus on the memories she had been imparted. They felt strange to her but then she should have realised beforehand that the memories given her would be from Morgana, from her own perspective. There were still gaps but with rest she hoped they would fill themselves in so she allowed her eyes to close and gave in to the tiredness that had been tugging at her for the last few hours.

When she woke again it was dark. She stumbled her way through the bedchamber and out the door to Morgana's room who was sleeping soundly by the look of her. She crossed the room to the window and saw that the moon was round and full in the sky, surrounded by little twinkling lights.

"Good evening My Lady" and absently she said a blessing to the Goddess, one she had first learned when training with the priestesses.

"You taught me that when I first came to you"

Morgause's feet barely touched the floor as she swept to Morgana's side, dropping light kisses all over the younger woman's face from forehead to the jaw punctuated by several 'you did it's and 'do not ever scare me like that again's. The conversation that followed was light and easy but did not last too long. Morgause had decided that Morgana needed her rest- whether Morgana herself believed that or not could be argued either way!

As she left the room a satisfied smile reached Morgause's lips as her footsteps echoed coldly along the stone corridor. She had had all the evidence that she needed. Morgana would indeed soon be ready to take over as High Priestess of the Old Religion.

**(Dun, dun, dun, dun, DUUUNNNNN!) Sorry, I've always wanted to do that!**

**To be continued...yes? No?**

*****_By the way, just in-case you were wondering, Sgathaich was an ancient legendary Celtic warrior queen who ran a training school at her castle (Dun Sgathaich) what is now the Isle of Skye. She is mentioned as reputedly training Ireland's greatest hero Cu Chulainn. The ruins of the castle can still be seen today. Incidentally, Sgathaich is also the one who lends her name to the isle itself. Her name means "The Shadowy One" where Skye means "Isle of the Shadows". So there's some useless information for you!_


	6. Chapter 6

**It's the morning after the night before and Morgause has remembered one or two things that Morgana neglected to tell her...**

**Chapter Six**

When Morgana came down to the Great Hall to break her fast the next morning she was surprised to find Morgause already nearly finished. Indeed, her sister barely acknowledged her as she sat down. Absently rearranging the slices of bread and cheese on her plate, the dark-haired witch was more intent on trying to catch the blonde woman's eyes. In the end she realised it would have to be her that made the first move although she truly had no idea what she had done to be ignored like this.

"Morgause?"

"Morgana."

Morgause's voice could not have been colder if she had purposefully travelled to the ends of the Earth and frozen it herself. Morgana was well aware that her half-sibling could have a temper, she was also aware that when a certain mood overtook her she simply had to be left to deal with it on her own but the young witch had never before found herself on the receiving end of the sorceress' wrath. She couldn't bear it.

"Morgause, have I done something to upset you?"

The older woman's response was terse to say the least;

"No of course not, do not be ridiculous."

The blonde finished her meal in silence though she noted the look of confusion on Morgana's face as she made to leave. She could sympathise with the younger woman, she was confused as well but that did not mean she was ready to discuss it.

"I have some things to attend to...I trust you are feeling better, sister?"

"Yes...much...thanks to you"

Morgause could only nod before sweeping off, skirt swishing behind her as she moved. As perplexed as she was, Morgana could not help but cast an admiring glance after her. It was, after all, a very _becoming_ outfit.

Downstairs in the depths of the castle the sorceress surveyed the wreckage that had been her Workroom. The damage was worse than she had anticipated. A groan escaped her lips, wishing she could somehow just whisk everything back into place with a flick of her wrist...but magic didn't work like that. Well, she would just have to get on with the task at hand just as she had everything else in her life. It was as well that she had changed into her trousers and plain shirt, the room was full of dust and grime that seemed all the worse when she summoned additional light to make up for the dull that was passing itself off as daylight. She supposed she could have easily told one of the servants to do this instead but this was her sanctum. This was where she worked and before Morgana had come to stay she had practically lived down here. _Yes Morgause and if you can convince yourself of that then you are a better liar than you thought. _She needed time to think. That was the real reason she was down here and where better to think than the sanctuary that existed well below the rest of the household? So she rolled up her sleeves and dug in.

It had been several hours since Morgana had last seen her sister. The sky was overcast and a strong south-westerly wind was gusting outside. Looking through the arches into the enclosed courtyard she hoped that Morgause hadn't strayed too far, rain did not look too far away. She'd had too long a time to think. She had spent her day walking around the empty cold hallways wondering what had on Earth could have happened between last night and this morning. She still felt a little strange and she wanted to the experienced sorceress why she had taken such a strong reaction to the spell. _Where in the name of the Goddess has she gone? _

It was only when she ventured down into the deepest recesses of the castle with the intent of going to the Library that she heard the sound of something being scraped across a floor. With carefully quiet steps she edged nearer to the sound. It was coming from the Workroom. She stopped short of the door, peeking through the gap between the wall and the edge of the door. What she saw was a very tired and very dirty-looking blonde witch who was bleeding in at least two or three places.

"Morgana, if you wish to enter then enter, do not stand there believing your presence remains secret"

"I...I did not want to intrude...I will let you to your own."

"No. Stay."

Morgana stepped into the room, examining the small wounds on her other woman's body.

"You are bleeding"

"It is nothing, some of the glass rebounded back on me as I was sweeping it up, that is all."

But the dark-haired witch noticed several other new cuts that had not appeared just this last hour. She pointed to them and looked at her sister admonishingly. Apparently Morgause was still having trouble meeting the younger girl's eyes.

"and these?"

"I sustained them yesterday when the glass came crashing in."

"You did not have them tended"

"I had more pressing concerns at the time...such as the welfare of my young sister"

With no more said Morgana began tearing off strips from her gown, silencing the blonde's immediate protests with a look. She slipped out to the well and brought in a bowl full of water and used one of the thicker strips of fabric as a cloth. As she gently dabbed at the series of small cuts on Morgause's arms and torso she decided to use her position to her advantage;

"Morgause, I must ask you a question..."

"You have never had such a reaction to using magic."

Once again Morgana was stunned by her sister's knack of getting the heart of a matter. In frustration she pulled hard on the make-ship bandage she was tying around the older woman's arm, making her gasp in response. Morgana, at least, had the decency to look sorry, even if she was a little annoyed. Morgause must have decided to take pity on the young girl.

"The answer is simple. It was a test of your skills. You have never controlled magic like this before Morgana, never has your body had so much energy put sent through and with such force. It is a natural reaction when something so foreign is released into your body. Think of an infection, your body must learn to adapt in order to control it."

Morgause was quite correct...it was simple...but something she had said didn't sound right...

"You were testing me?" Her voice was small but full of hurt.

"When you mentioned the transference I saw it as a chance to measure your skills"

"But...you did not want me to perform the spell...this does not make sense!"

"Morgana..." she soothed "...I knew that if I just let you perform the incantation without protest you would not fight as much as you did. You would have walked into it with ease and spell would not have nearly as powerful. You had to _want_ it."

At Morgana's confusion the blonde elaborated further.

"Morgana, what is magic anyway? It is will. The energy that you put into your will creates a _willpower. _Magic is the manifestation of this willpower. To create such magic so powerful you have to will it into existence. Will it with every fibre of your being." She smiled ruefully before continuing, "you must have wished for it more than you realised to create such an energy! The point was, my dear, not how your body reacted but how _you _were able to handle it. You came through and have come back strong. That was the true test."

As the young witch processed this one thing still bothered her. Everything Morgause had told her made perfect sense but why had she wanted to take the measure of her skills at all? Perhaps that was a question for another day. Silence fell between them as she tended the remaining scrapes her blonde sorceress had suffered until her patient spoke up.

"Now I think I should be asking you a question." Her voice was soft, a pleasant change from the harshness her tone had taken on throughout the day.

"You can ask me anything, you know that."

"Why did you not tell me?"

Morgana froze. The question had come thick and raspy with a multitude of emotion. She had hoped that Morgause would understand, that once she realised she would rushing back into her arms. Maybe that was just a fantasy. How naïve she had been. _Of course she wouldn't, stupid girl! _Then she remembered that the blonde was still standing there staring at her and she still had half a bandage in her hand.

"I...I was not sure how you would take it. I didn't think I could handle a rejection of all we had felt for each other. I love you Morgause. I always have. It just...it was hard enough for me to get used to the first time. I'm not sure I could have explained it to you before"

Morgause nodded slowly. She understood how Morgana felt but that did not mean she had to like it. She loved Morgana in her return and certainly when the memories had settled into place in the middle of the night they explained the strange reactions her body took whenever Morgana was near. She had had plenty of experience in her life. The joy of being a priestess was that she was free to do as she pleased and still belong to no one. It was strange because no one person had ever had such an effect on her. Such power over her feelings. She understood that for Morgana, coming from the background she had, the concept of this sort of relationship would have seemed unthinkable. Her life could not have been any more different than that of living on an Isle where women could do entirely as they pleased as well as the men and that human relationships meant very little. Intimacy was intimacy and it was a thing to be celebrated, regardless of which physical shell one possessed. For the first time since sometime the day before Morgause looked deeply into the other woman's eyes. For the first time since before the blonde beauty had been slammed into a wall in Camelot there was mutual understanding between the two. Lips met in a small, very tentative kiss.

"Owww!"

"Oh Morgause, I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

The sardonic look on the older woman's face let Morgana know that the question was somewhat unnecessary. When she looked down she realised that she had been clinging on to the half-tied bandage. So tight, in fact, that she had been cutting off the other woman's blood supply.

After a few minutes of arguing the dark-haired witch eventually managed to convince her blonde companion to leave the rest of the cleaning up with the servants. They dined quietly, just enjoying the other's presence. The time to retire for the evening came, both of them happy to put the day to rest. As happy as Morgana was that Morgause returned her affections still she went to bed with only one question on her mind...just what did Morgause have planned for her?

**To be continued...you think? Let me know :-D**


	7. Chapter 7

**Once again, thank you to those who have reviewed and also to those who are still reading and keeping up with the story. I really hope you're still enjoying it...dunno about you but I'm waiting to find out what happens next!**

**Chapter Seven**

Morgause knew all too well that she was on borrowed time. The incident in Camelot that caused her to lose her memories had been but a warning. Sooner rather than later she would have to name her successor as High Priestess of Avalon; she could not go on forever. Yes, she was still yet a young woman but her purpose had been served, aware that she was merely the place-holder, put in the position to train the true voice of the Goddess on Earth that she may once again bring magic back into the world. _We all have a destiny _she thought to herself with what was almost resignation.

Lying there in bed she thought of everything that had happened since she first set foot in Uther's kingdom, the first time since being smuggled out as an infant during the Great Purge. She had regained her family, sharing a bond with a woman she loved as sister, friend...and lover. She had been privileged enough to watch that young woman's bravado melt away to become a true sorceress in her own right; more confident, more self-assured. It was a spectacular transformation but there was still one last obstacle. Morgana still clung to her sister, still hid behind her sister's skills, still lacking belief in her own talents. There was nothing the blonde witch could do to change it, it was simple fact. The only way Morgana would gain some self-belief was when she was out there on her own.

In a room further along the corridor the raven-haired witch was suffering a restless sleep, haunted by disturbing visions, things that could not possibly be true. She had already been woken up several times and each time she found herself drifting off the same images made her cry out, her body writhing in mental agony. There was a sword, beautifully made but then were was Morgause, lying on the floor, Morgana felt the stickiness of crimson blood on her hands and her skin felt as though it were burning.

By the time morning came she could barely heave herself out of bed and down the narrow staircase to eat. When food was placed in front of her she could only push it around her plate, staring at it in half contempt and half horror at the thought of putting anything in her stomach. She suddenly stopped to wonder why she was here alone? Where was Morgause? As if in answer one of the young maids approached her with a slip of paper in-hand.

"My Lady, the Lady Morgause left this for you."

Morgana took the note and nodded her thanks the young girl.

'_Dearest Morgana,_

_I apologise I am not there with you this morning but I have _

_a friend who is in need of a visit. She is a fair ride away so I wanted_

_to get an early start and did not wish to disturb your rest._

_Already I wish I was returned so that I may see_

_you. Still, it will not be long until I am home again and you can tell_

_me all that you did while I was away. Enjoy your freedom, my love,_

_I will be training you all the harder when I return._

_A kiss to you this day._

_Morgause'_

She tucked the slip of paper away into her dress, briefly inhaling the parchment as she did so. It smelled of Morgause. A fresh, clean scent that was unique to the woman she called her own. The note would be staying with her this day.

As Morgause rode into Avalon many a smiling face greeted her but none so happy as Isilda, the old woman who had once looked after the young priestess to-be when she had first been brought to the Isle so many years ago. The blonde, herself, was ecstatic to be home once more. Her castle was comfortable in its own way and while she had chosen to live there to train her younger counterpart, she could never deny that she missed that scent of apples and fresh morning mist that was only Avalon's, she would savour it as though her last visit.

Isilda was a cheery woman, almost like a grandmother to the woman who had become Lady of Avalon. Somewhere in her late sixties with grey hair with bright, twinkling blue eyes she wore the sombre robe of a senior priestess. Morgause trusted her implicitly. They drifted to the High-Priestess' house that Isilda had been living in quite happily. As they settled themselves with something to drink a fire was contentedly crackling away in the hearth but it was the only sound that emanated within the room. It was Isilda that spoke up first;

"So the girl is ready then"

Morgause nodded, the heavy reality of the situation only now making itself felt.

"Yes and in truth old friend, I am so very tired."

"I know my girl but you have done well. Your mother would have been so proud of you, as am I."

The blonde smiled in response but she had to remember she was here on serious business, the reunion would have to wait for the time being.

"I am here to name my successor, Isilda and I have a request of you."

"You are free to name your request My Lady. Anything that is within my power shall be done, you have always known that."

"I know. I need you to look after Morgana when she comes to you. She will need your wisdom and your guidance just as I have over these many years. Will you do this for me Isilda?"

"Of course I will, just as I have tried to guide you the best I could I will do for her. Oh Morgause, I remember when you first came to us, such a serious young lady."

The High-Priestess could not help but chuckle, it was true.

"Well, if nothing else it is good to know that some things do not change."

"Indeed. Is there anything else you need of me, Lady?"

After a hesitation the answer came but it was not the response that the other woman had been expecting. The soft voice came;

"I am afraid..."

She was ashamed to admit it. Morgause had never been afraid of anything in her life, always tackling any problem head-on without so much as a second thought. This was different. She was leaving the future of her own people in the hands of a young woman who, by her own admission, was uncertain of her own capabilities. She was afraid of what would was soon to come. Would her nerve fail at the last moment? Would she be so selfish as to try and cheat fate and remain where she was? She had always done her duty so absolutely but she was only ever going to get one try at this. She would have to leave behind everything she held dear. The old woman could, however, read the younger woman as well as she could a piece of parchment;

"It is as well, Morgause. If you did not fear you would not have the courage to go through with what you must. Use the fear and turn it to resolve. Now come, we have a naming ceremony to attend."

It was late the following evening when Morgause finally arrived home. When her horse drew up outside she looked up to find Morgana gazing out from her bedroom window. The blonde could not help but break out into a grin at the sight. Racing up the stairs, well, as much as the weight of her armour would allow anyway. When she got there Morgana was already standing in the bedchamber doorway. The older sorceress was never one for clichés but the sight of the beautiful black-haired young woman in front of her was too much. She lifted her in the air, twirling her round and round. The two woman laughed and giggled, falling back onto the bed with a clatter, Morgause pressing into Morgana until the young woman let out a squeak of protest. The blonde jumped off immediately when she realised her it was armour that had been pressing into the other woman's body.

"Morgana, I am so sorry, I was not thinking!"

She lowered herself to her knees and for a moment the young woman believed the older witch would begin begging for her forgiveness. Morgana cupped the other woman's face in her hands and raised her up to meet her, kissing her lightly through a bright smile.

"It is fine, my love, we were both of us caught up in the moment. Now you must tell me all about your visit."

Morgause took her companion's hands in her own and kissed the palms.

"Of course but I would like to eat, will you join me?"

Morgana would not allow the other woman to lift a finger; she sent down to the kitchen for some dinner for the weary traveller, she removed to blonde's armour with her own hands, sat them both down on Morgause's large bed when their supper arrived on a tray.

"My, my, I am being treated well by my young apprentice"

Not that Morgause wasn't loving every minute of it.

"Yes well...I am not used to being without you, am I?"

It should have been just another jest but Morgause's face became somewhat sombre.

"Have I said something?"

"No...but...Morgana, have you ever thought of what you would do were I not here one day?"

"Of course not, it is not as though it is any immediate concern is it"

Morgause's answer was silence.

"Is it?"

Morgana's voice was a hiss, confused as to why this woman who loved her would say such a thing...why she should even _think _of the matter then she remembered her dreams and she felt cold.

"It is something you may one day have to handle."

"Is this...why discuss this tonight...are...are you leaving me?"

The young woman was turning hysterical now, Morgause desperately had to find a way of calming the situation. She tilted the young woman's face towards her, determined to knock her next message home;

"Morgana, I will _never _leave you, that is a promise you can take with you to your grave...if you must know, my visit was to Avalon. I had to state the name of the one I intend to succeed me as High-Priestess of Avalon. Whenever the time comes...the mantle shall be yours."

Morgana remained silent for moments, trying to come to terms with all the other woman had told her.

"There is more..."

"Oh, good Goddess, what more can there be?"

"While I was there...it came to light that Arthur will soon be taking over for his father in the duties of the King. If we were ever to stake your true claim to the throne of Camelot it must be now!"

Morgana, the poor girl, had turned an even paler colour than usual and her head was swimming. Her body went limp and the blonde had to catch her, easing her back onto the bed. She leaned over the young witch who was now shivering slightly. She decided that was enough for now. She grinned down at the one she loved;

"Anything you would like me to do while I am here?

"Perhaps one or two things"

For the first time since their troubles began they gave-in to each other. There was no death, no destruction, no witches, no priestesses and no Camelot; this night was theirs. Every touch healed a small hurt, every smell, every taste a reassurance and a reaffirmation.

When they lay together in the hours after talk was limited, each buried in their own thoughts. Morgana, quite content to be in the arms of the one who had always been there and Morgause wanting to simply absorb every heartbeat. Neither of them slept, to happy to be together at at last.

As Morgana lay there in sleepy afterglow she felt a mild nudge in her ribs;

"By-the-way...we ride for Camelot tomorrow".

**Alas, my faithful readers, join me for one last chapter**

**Once again,**

**To be Continued...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi there folks, **

**well this is the end of the road for our intrepid witches. Not **_**quite **_**the end of the story though as I have written a short Epilogue but for reasons which you'll see when you read it I have found this the most difficult chapter to write. I hope you enjoy it...**

**Chapter Eight**

Morgana stifled yet another yawn as they trotted through the woods en-route to Camelot, _the great_ _shining city itself, _she thought with complete disdain. After being waited on hand-and-foot during her stay at Morgause's Castle she was not used to these early rises, it just wasn't right! Morgause was riding ahead, marginally tired of hearing the younger woman's complaints and groans.

"How long until we get there?"

"Morgana, you know as well as I do that Camelot is a full-day's ride away!" the blonde huffed.

She had not anticipated spending this time being frustrated with the woman who, at this very moment, was behaving like a spoiled child of no more than five. She halted until the dark-haired witch caught up with her. As soon as Morgana's white mare was alongside her the sorceress took the witch's hand in her own.

"Do not rush this time, love"

"What do you mean?"

"Only that...you should use it to prepare yourself for what is ahead of us"

"and how are we supposed to complete our task with only the two of us? No army behind us?"

"I thought a more subtle approach would work to our favour. Part of the reason the people did not yield to you before was that they felt threatened. A more 'legitimate' looking takeover may help. Aside from which there is a plan."

"I trust you"

Morgause smiled and the two women fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts, each preparing themselves for the ordeal to come."

I It was nightfall by the time they reached Camelot, the world covered in a sombre shadow. The moon loomed high and bright above, casting down her silver tendrils, highlighting the turrets and the trees that surrounded the citadel.

On approach to the city's main gate, Morgause paused;

"Morgana, you are certain as to your part in this?"

"Yes, I slip down to the cellars and use my magic to create a distraction, make the army believe they are under attack from some mystical force but you still have not told me where you will be."

Morgause smiled somewhat ruefully,

"No, I have not...but you will hear my call when the time is right for you to come and find me. Have no fear for we shall succeed. Through you and I magic will return to this world and once again our kind will be respected and revered as they were before Uther and his 'Great Purge'"

The younger witch was still not happy but she resigned herself to the fact that she was simply not going to get any further information. The blonde reached over and kissed the young woman on the cheek;

"Be safe, love."

The two women parted, Morgause to hide outside the gateway waiting for Morgana's magic to distract Uther's mighty army and Morgana to make her way to the cellars which lay deep under the castle itself. Hundreds of magical artefacts were sealed in permanent storage down there, Morgause believed that Morgana could use the items to create a more powerful energy to control the elements themselves.

The blonde waited silently, patiently watching for the effects of the younger woman's sorcery. Slowly, slowly, the sky began to churn almost like a storm brewing. The effect gradually built up to become a cloudy maelstrom, the heavens opened and thunder cracked, lightening streaked across the skies and rain cascaded from the heavy clouds. Shapes began to appear; dragons seemed to be circling, Griffins winged their way through the darkness and snakes hissed through the thunder. Fiery streams rushed through the wide space above them and Morgause her the screams and shouts coming from the city. She took her chance and dashed inside, _my young sorceress does well, _she thought with a grin, _I have taught her well, now I can accept my fate without fear. _She glanced to the heavens briefly; _I give myself to you, My Lady. _

Climbing staircase after staircase she eventually reached her goal. With all the chaos of guards rushing around, women and children panicking and men hurriedly grabbing supplies no one noticed another figure clad in armour- not even the notorious Priestess of the Old Religion. Without trepidation she found Uther's chamber. She blasted open the tightly locked door, knowing well he would be here _cowering in his bedroom under the guise of controlling the battle as always, _she considered dryly.

The king spun around at the blast. He looked old, it was almost sad. Morgause drew her sword, taking a careful step toward him. When he spoke his voice was thin, brittle even;

"Am I then to assume my daughter is with you in causing this destruction?"

Morgause circled carefully, her disgust of him prevalent on her features.

"She is not your daughter, Uther. You gave up any right you had over that title when you chose to ignore her. You merely sired her. If you wish to see her _true _family then look no further"

Her lip curled up in satisfied smirk. She heard the footsteps she had been waiting on behind her. The great Prince Arthur, his pathetic maid of a lover and his even more pathetic servant appeared in the doorway though they did not know why. Morgause had summoned them. She wanted them to hear the King's confession before he was dispatched.

"Pick up your sword"

The old man shook his head;

"I would not lower myself"

"Fine" the sneering response came; "have it your way"

The sorceress lunged forward, her sword held high above her head. Uther whipped up his own blade in sheer reaction. Steel flashed against steel, every parry blocked, every line challenged. They were evenly matched- Uther's battle experience with Morgause's pure athleticism.

Outside the doorway Arthur tried to push, batter and ram his way through, desperate to fight for his father but the witch had put up a barrier, she wanted them to watch.

Down in the bowels of the castle Morgana was experiencing the biggest rush of magic she had ever felt. Morgause had been right, no one would come near or by, it was the perfect place to hide and she could hear the effect of her magic. The knights were crying out their defence, the women being herded into hiding. The very ground shook under her very feet. It was then, in the midst of it all that she felt the call of Morgause from somewhere above her. She had no idea where the sorceress had positioned herself but she found her feet moving without her own will. She was being directed up through the levels of the castle. When she stopped she was confronted with a scene of horror.

There, before her was the woman she loved battling Uther, the man who had fathered her. She was surrounded by those she used to call family but she could not think of them at that moment. Morgause was giving Uther a good battering, the older man struggling to keep up with the young woman's speed but his blows were crippling, forcing the blonde back several steps with every hit she took. She faltered slightly when she saw the dark-haired witch in the doorway, it was time.

"Uther, is there anything you would like to say?"

A gasp from the man on the other end of the fight as he caught a hit to his shoulder;

"This will end and you will not have your prize"

"Oh, I would not be so sure about that"

She kicked him along the calves, knocking him to his knees and forcing him to drop his sword. The witch pressed the tip of her sword into his back;

"Look at your daughter"

"What daughter?"

"Oh Uther, how disappointing...look at her!"

After several despairing moments her turned his head to the black-haired figure standing in the aperture.

"Ah, so you _do _admit to her then?"

This king had fallen to his knees before this sorceress and his voice was thick with the tears he dared not cry;

"Yes, she is my daughter"

Morgause turned her head to the crowd that had now assembled to watch the scene taking place in the King's chambers.

"Now, pick up your sword and let us finish this"

"I...will not"

"Yes, you will"

The once-mighty leader stayed in place, shaking his head, overcome with the emotion he had kept firm secret of over the last twenty years. Morgause took a step back, eyeing him warily. Her plan could not fail now. He steadily rose to his feet;

"As you wish"

Blades collided once more, the fight neither building or decreasing in intensity, simply matching each attack until Uther caught a well-timed lunge. Morgause had a sword plunged through her gut. Her hearing went dull but she could hear the distant screams of Morgana. Instead of falling back the blonde eased herself further along the blade, her hands gripping the hilt of the king's sword to help her. With the sweat dripping from her forehead she asked the question that would seal her sister's fate;

"Name your heir Uther the Pendragon"

Uther had been unwittingly backed into a corner. Nearly the whole of the court of Camelot had heard his confession of Morgana's paternity. A daughter older than his son Arthur. He had been left with no choice.

"Morgana...Morgana is my daughter and heir"

Morgause was left to smirk, victory was hers;

"That...was all we needed to hear"

From nowhere a dagger plunged into Uther's stomach, up into the heart. It had been concealed in the sleeve of her Hauberk for just this moment. Both parties fell back as Uther lost the grip on his hilt, a look of shock his final expression. When Morgause landed back on the floor she slid back down the sword, crashing to the ground in an almighty thud.

Outside, the skies cleared and the barrier came down from the doorway as Morgause's magic died. Morgana rushed to the stricken woman's side.

"You knew! You promised me you would never leave me, you lied! Why did you promise me?"

Morgause gave a faint smile.

"Morgana...I have _never _lied to you...I will never be far away, my love."

The tears streamed down the dark-haired witch's face;

"What am I supposed to do without you?"

"Be Queen of Camelot...and now High-Priestess as well. It is your charge now, to bring magic back to the world, to bring the Isle of Avalon back to the world...I have trained you well and now the time is yours."

Morgana could feel the blonde's hands growing colder as the blood rushed out from her wound. She knew they did not have long. Without a thought to those casting their gazes down on the two women she eased towards the other woman's lips, kissing her with utmost tenderness.

"My gift to you...promise me you'll keep it safe"

The last breath from Morgause's body flowed into Morgana's mouth and with it came all of her memories, her thoughts, her feelings, her knowledge. All of the hardship, all of the grief, the pain but most of all she felt the overwhelming love in this woman's heart. Morgana felt it all.

"I will keep it safe, I promise, I promise, I promise, I promise, I promise..."

The dark-haired witch didn't know how long she held onto the blonde's body, cradling Morgause's head in her lap. She couldn't let go even as her tear's mingled with the older woman's blood. If she let go now then she would be letting _her _go.

Arthur was conspicuous by his absence and the crowd had eased. The whisper amongst the court was that somehow a great force had come to conquer the land but the spurned Uther's daughter had somehow contrived to rescue them. Typical of village mentality perhaps but Morgana somehow thought that Morgause had had something to do with it. One of the maid-servants had come to retrieve Camelot's heir apparent from her grief and the body of the sorceress was taken somewhere out of sight.

It had been some weeks since Morgana had been claimed heir to Camelot. Arthur had disappeared only God-knew where. In the witch's favour the people had accepted her as ruler this time. Perhaps Morgause was right in the subtle approach. She had been proclaimed Queen in theory but her coronation was planned for a later time. She had one duty to perform first. Morgause's wish had been for the young sorceress to bring the priestesses back into the world of man. She could not do that if she was not, herself, High-Priestess, taking over from her sister.

She stared into the glass, fidgeting with the robe and its various trappings. Looking down to where it tied at the waist she tried to loosen the knot but found it just got tighter with every twist of her fingers. Fingers that were not her own managed the task and covered Morgana's own hands, with a gasp the dark-haired sorceress bolted her head upright, examining the glass, unable to believe it.

"I did tell you I never make promises I cannot keep"

"Morgause!"

She moved to turn around and pull the woman into her arms but Morgause stopped her with a grab of her shoulders.

"Do not turn around love, you must not try to look at me with your own eyes."

Morgana's voice cracked;

"Are you truly here?"

The blonde kissed a line along the young witch's shoulder, moving gradually up her neck to the jawline.

"I am here as long as you believe I am here. I promised I would never leave you and I have not. I have not gone anywhere. Oh, I am so proud of you Morgana."

Tears stung the backs of young woman's eyes;

"I miss you"

"I miss you also but be happy for me, my darling. I am happy where I am now. You must remember that I am here as long as you need me."

"I do not know if I can do this, I am not you Morgause"

"I did not know if I could either until it happened and neither will you. I have prepared you as much as I could and Isilda will look after you and guide you just as she did me. You are not alone."

Morgana nodded but didn't look convinced. The older woman gave her a small squeeze around the waist.

"Close your eyes"

"Morgause?"

"Close your eyes Morgana and do not open them until I tell you."

The young woman did as she was told and felt herself being turned around. A hand came up to cup her cheek, Morgause's once calloused hands were now soft, her fingers stroking through the younger woman's black tresses before gentle lips met in a loving kiss. A kiss which turned more passionate as moments went by. The High-Priestess to-be sliding her hand's lightly up Morgause's back...

There was a knock at the door. Isilda walked in to find Morgana in the middle of the chamber with eyes closed, mouth open and hands in mid-air. The young woman started when she heard the footsteps behind her, more shocked still to find there was nothing to indicate Morgause had ever been there at all aside from the faint ghost of a tingle on her lips. Isilda suddenly acquired a knowing look from somewhere as she stepped toward the dark-haired girl before her.

"Those who love us never leave us my dear"

Morgana fought to maintain her composure; _After all, _she thought, _a High-Priestess is supposed to be above all of this, is she not? _The old priestess seemed to sense the witch's struggle;

"Just because you are to be High-Priestess, My Lady, does not mean you cannot have your own feelings. Morgause had to be strong for you, for all of us, that was simply the way she was. You must be yourself and you must grieve. Now, we have a ceremony to perform do we not?"

**Well, that's the end of the story although there is an Epilogue to come just to round things off. Hopefully should be posting that tomorrow so until then...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Right folks, this is officially it- the last instalment of Recovering Magic. Just a short Epilogue to tie up a few loose ends with Morgana.**

**Epilogue**

An old woman with long-flowing white hair stands looking out from a high hill. Blue/green eyes survey the land and she notes the small changes that have taken place here and there but still thankful she can clearly spot the same landmarks she had known since she was a girl. Shining Camelot still stood proud on its rocky outcrop, the Tor with its processional way and in the very distance she can just make out the stone circle that has stood there for time in memoriam. She thinks of everything that has passed since she first became High-Priestess of Avalon and Queen of Camelot. She thinks of those she has loved...and those she has lost.

_She comes to me sometimes in the night. In those dreams I am young once more and we take long walks by the lake of her castle with everything flowering in its spectacular colouring, the smells of the greenery fresh and clean. There are delicate touches and whispered conversations, her long blonde curls soft against my cheek but there is never anything more. Not until the day when I finally go to be with her. Sometimes I beg her to take me with her but she only smiles and tells me that it is not yet time. _

_ Over the years I hoped that it would somehow hurt less, that I would be able to "miss her less" but it was a foolish hope. When I was Queen of Camelot there were cries for me to find a suitable match, someone to take the reigns of the kingdom and provide an heir. It was then I realised that my work there was done. I have no idea to this day how we managed it but Arthur and I came to a sort of 'easy-peace'. Of course, there was great pomp and ceremony the day I handed him back his father's kingdom but he really was destined to be a great king. I could no longer deny him that and his father could no longer cause me any harm. Arthur was never the man full of hate like Uther. The truth was he had come to an understanding of magic and let it remain alive in his city. He and Guinevere were already married by then mysteriously conceived no heir. Who knows what will happen to Camelot in the future? The vultures have already begun to circle, tearing at Arthur's kingdom like scraps, each hungry for a share larger than the next. In all honesty I try not to look too far ahead. For years visions of the future caused me great pain, I do not seek them now at all. There are other seers in Avalon who can do that particular task and far better than I. _

_ As for myself, I could not bring myself to love any other, not even physically. After all, why settle when you have already had the best?_

_ Do not think that my life has been completely unhappy. Morgause's servants that worked so hard for her remained with me, constant faithful companions and Isilda kept the promise she made to Morgause. She treated me as though I were her own granddaughter, just as she had my older sister; she had thought the world of my mother and saw it as her duty to stand by us. Dear Isilda, may the Goddess bless her soul. _

_ There was a child in my life as well; a young girl who came to us as an orphan. Her parents had both had magic. Her father had been a soldier of Camelot and her mother had died of an illness. The poor girl had come to us in a terrible state of hunger, clothes all worn and ragged. I took her in myself and as it happened, she had a remarkable gift. Ironically the girl was named Viviane, a pretty little thing. I made her my pupil and began training her as a priestess myself. It was the first time I had been back to Morgause's castle since...well, since everything happened. Viviane loved the Library as much as I had when first I discovered it, a world of learning in one room. Walking the halls so many memories came flooding back, overwhelming my senses to the point where the stone around seemed to spin. It was difficult at first but eventually it became more of a comfort than a curse. Stepping into Morgause's bedchamber I still felt as though I should have knocked on the door and a voice would come from the other side of it. Delving into the wardrobe that was still filled with the many fine gowns she had owned as well as the plain-dyed shirts and trousers. Unbelievably they still smelled of her. There was one dress in particular, it had always been my favourite; a beautiful, red silken thing that criss-crossed down the arms with interlaced little studs making up a kind of snowflake pattern in the gaps. I lifted the cloth to my face and though it was a little musty I could still make out the faint trace of her perfume and the slight scent of herbs._

_ I watched the young Viviane grow into a beautiful woman. Now she is almost ready to take her place as High-Priestess herself. Avalon has flourished these last years but now I worry as to whether it will remain as such. All great kingdoms must to come to an end and I fear for Avalon that time may be soon. Well...soon enough that will be the concern of those younger ones. For now, I must go home and perhaps I shall dream once more of a magical castle..._

**Once again, thank you to all of you who have kept up with my story, I really hope you have enjoyed it. There is a huge gap between Morgana becoming Queen of Camelot and this Epilogue so there is ample room for some more storytelling...if you think this is a good (or indeed a bad) idea then by all means let me know and I'll try and get the old creative cauldron bubbling! **

**Until then, however...**

**The End.**


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